We had this lounge-style keyboard player at my wedding reception who kept playing all these unobtrusive, meandering songs. So I asked him to play "Secret Agent Man". I waited and waited, but didn't hear it. Then a few minutes later I realized that he was in fact playing "Secret Agent Man" -- an unobtrusive, meandering version of it. I thought that was so cool.

I’ve been brought up to believe that at one point in my life I will get an adventure. Not some flat-tire-looking-for-a-phone adventure but a real life, running-from-assassins type of adventure.

And it still hasn’t happened.

I’m not saying I want to be shot, although I’ve been brought up to believe that your average guy can withstand at least one, if not two, shots as long as they only hit appendages. I’m not saying that I have a death wish or that I don’t appreciate the life I have now. My world is stable. I get my paychecks, I pay my bills, I buy my groceries and sometimes I even have some money left over to go have a drink.

Of course, then I’d have to uncover a diabolical plot and use my training against this splinter faction because this time they’ve gone too far. A chase from building top to building top would ensue and eventually I’d end up facing the leader of the entire scheme. The well placed cut above my eye would have clotted and the pain of the broken ribs that, moments ago had me gasping would have faded to a dull ache that doesn’t inhibit my motion at all.

I wouldn’t be a hero, I’d just be an average guy who did what anyone would’ve done in the same situation.

Then I could go back to my paychecks and bills and groceries and not feel like I was cheated. I would tell people that this peaceful life was all I ever wanted and I was glad to lay down my gun. My bullet wounds would fade to scars and my ribs would heel nicely. I’d enjoy my quiet, uneventful life because the adventure was over and justice was served.